


Safe

by zorac



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14378172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorac/pseuds/zorac
Summary: You don’t have to be quiet, and you don’t have to feel ashamed. This is not your war to fight, and you’re not to blame. I know you’ve been stumbling, searching for a place to hide and heal; somewhere you can rest, forgive yourself, and feel. You’re safe here.What if Kate went up to that roof a few minutes earlier? What if she wasn’t alone before Max got there?





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Summary lyrics and inspiration from the song _Safe_ by Ward Thomas, from their fantastic album _Cartwheels_.

###### Kate

I hate that I can see a silver lining in somebody’s death. I hate it, but I can’t pretend that ‘The Murder of Chloe Price’ hasn’t pushed ‘Kate Marsh’s Make-out Video’ off the top of the Blackwell gossip chart. The bullying may have slackened off but, thanks to the reason why, that doesn’t make me feel any better.

I hate knowing what happened to me. I hated not knowing, too, but after ruling out the worst-case scenario, my imaginings were pretty limited. Now, when I close my eyes, all I can see is the photographs the police showed me. The violation might not be physical, but it’s still real.

I hate how the truth hasn’t changed anything. As far as my mother and aunt are concerned, my sin was in going to that party in the first place. Whether my actions were because I foolish enough to have too much to drink, or stupid enough to get myself drugged, makes no difference. Both ‘excuses’ are equally unacceptable in their judgmental eyes.

I hate the way everybody is avoiding me. Not just the bullies, but the people I thought were friends, too. Maybe they’re ashamed of having watched that video, and they’re too embarrassed to talk to me; or they simply don’t know what to say. Or, maybe they just don’t care, maybe they were never really my friends in the first place.

I hate my life.

I hate myself.

* * *

I’m not even sure why I bothered coming to class today. Nobody is interested in the lessons, not even the teachers. Everyone wants to talk about Chloe and Nathan and Jefferson, and how what happened affected _them_. You can imagine how that makes _me_ feel. Or maybe you can’t; maybe _that’s_ the problem.

Confident that there’s not going to be a photography class today, I don’t bother hanging around to make sure. Instead, I head straight back to the dorm building. When I get up to the second floor, though, I don’t go to my room; instead, something makes me keep climbing the stairs. I’m not sure why: they only lead to the roof access door, and that’s always locked. I even try the handle, as if to prove a point to someone.

It isn’t locked today.

I stare at the door for a few moments. It’s my way out, in more ways than one. Right now, I’m not sure that I can see any others. It’s not like anyone’s going to care. Maybe this will, I don’t know, wipe away the stain that video put on my family’s honor. I push the door open and step out onto the flat roof. Letting it close behind me, I walk straight ahead until I reach the parapet, and peer over it to the grassy quad below. It looks like a long way down; that’s good, the last thing I want is to make a mess of this and end up in surgery instead of the morgue.

I’m just pushing myself up onto the low wall, when a voice calls from behind me. “Hey, be careful; you don’t want to fall over the edge.” I turn around to see a blonde girl leaning against the wall behind the door. She’s wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, and there’s a blue feather dangling from one of her ears. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met her before, but there’s something about her that’s familiar.

“Do I know you?” I ask.

“No, Kate, you don’t,” she says, pushing off the wall and sauntering towards me. “I’m Rachel.”

Suddenly I know why she seems familiar – all those missing person posters I’ve seen on campus, and around town. “Rachel Amber?”

“The one and only,” she tells me with a graceful actor’s bow.

“But you… you vanished!”

“I know. Believe me, I didn’t want to go, but I had no choice.”

“What happened? Where have you been?”

“That’s not important. What matters is that I’m back, for one night only, to play the part of your guardian angel.”

“I don’t need…” I begin.

“I know why you’re here, Kate, up on this roof. I know what you were planning to do.”

“How…”

“You’d be surprised,” Rachel tells me wryly. She sits down, leaning back against the parapet, then pats the roof next to her. “I also know what Nathan and Mr. Jefferson did to you. I have… first hand experience of their nasty little hobby. After that… I couldn’t stay here any longer.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I sit down beside her. “But what about your family? Your friends?”

Rachel shakes her head. “We’re here to talk about you, not me. What about _your_ family, and _your_ friends?”

“My family?” I scoff. “My mother already thinks Satan has me on the fast-track to Hell!”

“What about Lynn and Ruth? Do you really want to make them go through the death of their big sister?”

That was something I’d tried very hard not to think about. “That’s not fair,” I mutter sourly.

“No, it isn’t. And neither is people like Nathan and Victoria abusing their money and popularity to bully and take advantage of people. Don’t let them control your life – or end it.”

“But what if it’s always like this? What if I can never get away from it?”

“There’s no shame in finding a place you can hide from them, where you can escape from all of that: you’re safe here. And nothing lasts forever; I remember when Nathan was the one being bullied, and Victoria was a puffed-up wannabe who ran out of a school play because Chloe said a few mean words to her.”

“So, what? ‘It gets better’? That’s all you’ve got?” I feel a few drops of water hit my skin as it begins to rain. I should go inside, but this conversation feels too important to leave; besides, the low wall shelters us from the worst of the rain. “Even if the bullying doesn’t come back, that’s not going to stop my mother hating me, or take away the memories of what happened, or allow me to believe that _anyone_ here is a real friend. It’s not going to take away the guilt that I went to that party and drank that wine. And no matter where the blame lies, I still feel… soiled by it.”

“You are not what happened to you,” Rachel tells me firmly. “You’re still the same person you were before that party, even if you don’t see it right now. I can’t fix that for you, but I can suggest somewhere to start: you need to forgive _yourself_. I can tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong until I’m blue in the face, but I can’t make you believe it; only you can do that. And maybe you have more friends than you think, but they’re just dealing with their own issues right now.”

“Like who?” I ask dismissively.

Rachel sits back and looks up at the dark clouds. “Did you know that Max grew up right here in Arcadia Bay, until her family moved up to Seattle about five years ago? When she was tiny, she met another girl and they became instant friends. All the way through first and middle school, they were close as can be, almost like sisters. Neither of them really recovered from being separated.” She turns to look me directly in the eye. “That girl’s name was Chloe Price, and Max was right there when Nathan shot her.”

I feel my eyes widen and my lungs constrict. Sure, everyone has been avoiding me, but I can’t remember seeing Max _at all_ since she checked up on me at the end of yesterday’s photography class. Suddenly, I find I have something _worth_ feeling guilty about – my friend needed me, and I was too wrapped up in my own problems to see hers. I push myself upright and tug my damp skirt straight. “I should go and find Max,” I declare, “she could probably use a friend right about now.”

I take a couple of steps, then turn to look back at Rachel, absently noting that it almost looks like the rain never touched her. “Thank-you. I… I’m not sure I can express how much this talk means to me.” I hesitate before admitting the truth. “You probably saved my life, you know. I’m not sure how I can ever pay you back for that.”

She smiles up at me. “You don’t need to do that; besides, I’m going to be leaving again soon. Instead, I have every confidence you’ll find a way to pay it forward.”

I nod vigorously. “I promise.”

Behind me, I hear the roof door crash open. “Kate?” I spin around to see Max rushing towards me. “Oh, thank God. I was worried I was going to be too late…”

“Too late for what?”

“Too late to stop you.” I stare at Max, realizing that she knows why I came up here. Knew when, even.

“How…?” I ask, then, not waiting for an answer, “Rachel knew as well…” I turn to look at _her_ , and see nothing. She’s gone. “Rachel?” I whip my head back and forth, scanning the roof. There’s no-one here except for Max and me. “Rachel!” I call, louder. Getting a horrible thought, I rush back to the parapet and peer over; there’s no sign of her below.

A moment later, Max grabs me and pulls me back. “No, Kate! What are you doing?”

“Looking for Rachel; she was already on the roof when I arrived, and she talked me out of… what I was going to do. You must have seen her, she was sat right next to me when you got up here.”

“Kate, you were the only person on the roof when I arrived,” Max says slowly. “And who’s Rachel?”

“Rachel Amber; you must have seen all those missing person posters…” My voice trails off as I see all the blood draining from my friend’s face. “Max?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Kate, but Rachel Amber is dead. Nathan murdered her months ago; that’s why she disappeared. The police found her body yesterday evening.”

My hand flies up to my mouth as I react in shock and denial. “No! That’s not possible! She was right here…”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. She was the DA’s daughter, so it’s going to be all over the news tomorrow.”

“So… she was what? A figment of my imagination? An angel?” I look up, half expecting to see Rachel floating there on a pair of wings.

Max gives me a sad smile. “‘My angel’; that’s what Chloe used to call her. I’m not sure it matters. What _does_ matter is that you’re safe.”

“I guess,” I reply, dubiously. Maybe I’m going crazy, maybe I’ve been talking to a ghost, or maybe it really was divine intervention. I don’t suppose it makes much of a difference. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t checked up on you. Rachel said that you and Chloe were close when you were kids…”

“That’s okay, Kate; you’ve had plenty of your own shit to go through. I think you can be forgiven for not keeping an eye on me as well.” Max’s eyes narrow. “And I’ve never told _anyone_ Blackwell about my history with Chloe. How could a figment of your imagination tell you something you didn’t already know?”

“She couldn’t…” I say slowly, still not sure what happened here. “So, what? I really was talking to an angel?”

“I have no idea. All I know is that life in Arcadia Bay can be pretty strange.” Max reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me towards the door. “Come on, let’s get out of the rain. I don’t know about you, but I could really use a cup of tea.”

I allow her to lead me inside. Somehow, I don’t think that a hot drink is going to cure all that ails us, but it’s a good place to start.


End file.
